Saw this at Titus' blog and thought it was a lovely thing to be part of. It's all about taking a moment to notice something. Although I may not post my stones daily on the blog, I will be collecting them daily and will add them here as and when I can.
Monday 10. 7am
A crack in the ceiling; a volcano rising out of peeling emulsion seas. An ant climbs Rangitoto.
Tuesday 11. 9:30am
Staple caught in the carpet; wool dyed to look like sand. A history of everything in brown.
Tuesday 11. 7pm
Bluebottle: all the colours of earth viewed from space. A fly carries the world on its back.
Tuesday 11. 8pm
Tui calls; briskly stirred drink, particles combining. Tapping spoon on china.
Tuesday 11. 8:15pm
Leaden on the swan plant where stained glass should be; dying monarch.
Wednesday 12. 6pm
Sandstone warm at my back; sunning. My thoughts walk a street of clouds.
Thursday 13. 5pm
Bluebottle; blue heart, pulmonary departed. Sea-breathing jellyfish; misplaced lung.
Bluebottle jelly fish, photo taken by Rachel J. Fenton, Thursday 13 January 2011.
Friday 14. 5pm
Coal faced mynahs beak pick beach quarry for snap.
Friday 14. 5.30pm
Three rams chase egg, butt to retrieve it without breaking, fall apart giggling. Rugby ball bounces on damp sand.
Saturday 15. 9am
Clothes tag on the table; commercial breakfast.
Sunday 16. 3pm
A spill on the notebook; penicillin in progress. Writing as medicine. Self heal; eat your words.
Monday 17. 10.am
Bird call; lapping glass.
Tuesday 18. 9.30am
Laundry basket on kitchen floor; still darks in morning.
Wednesday 19. 3pm
Toy tractor lifts book from rug; book lifts child from realia.
Thursday 20. 9.30am
Wisteria reaches for the window; holds out the light.
Friday 21. 5.30pm
Cables chime on flagless poles; Empire folded, the band plays on.
Saturday 22. 7.20am
Drawers left open. Another scratch. Bleeding washing.
Sunday 23. 11.30pm
Hot chocolate on white bedding dries as blood. I surrender.
Monday 24. 10am
Woman stares out through office window, file in hand; pending.
Tuesday 25.
Scribbles in red ink; my name (Rae), and what looks like an eagle's claw; sun dance.
Wednesday 26. 5.30pm
Sparrows flick playground bark: wood chirpings.
View from my house.
Thursday 27. 2pm
The bench, looking out over Mairangi Bay, where I last ate pastries with my mam. Before we left, how did I picture home? With buddleia growing out of her hair, smoking like a forgotten foundry in Attercliffe. And now? Against the backdrop of the sea; Pacific.
Friday 28. 9.15pm
Wedding anniversary. Rain forecast. Lick finger and press to the table: eat inside.
A collection of mugs. Note the Yorkshire Rose!
Friday 28. 10.30pm
Man with a toadstool for a brolly walks a pied dog in the storm: he must be on something.
Saturday 29. 6.30pm
Bulldog on lead. Dog's happier.
Sunday 30. 10am
Teens, taut as swingseats, lark in togs at beach playground.
Sunday 30.
Evolution: two seals stand in the time it takes a wave to break. Gnarly wipeout.
Sunday 30.
Ironing: men with boards press the sea, crease in its waves.
Sunday 30.
Statue: a sheathed phallus, protected from acid rain; environmental consummation.
Sunday 30.
Low barrier promotes Fence Hire; false advertising.
Monday 31. 5am
Morning stretches its wings, pigeon call and dove grey at the window. Whenuapai bird cuts a track clean and rigid as a cleaver. Small bodied chirpings huddle together or fall from the block to bush, defiant in pre-verdant screen in this colourless hour, tone in sound alone.
Monday 31. 8am
Last night's crumbs on table: coconut crack.
My thanks to Fiona and Kaspa for allowing me to take part in this project, which I've thoroughly enjoyed. I hope you've enjoyed reading my daily greywacke. My final stone is here.
I tried to join but my comment was lost in the ether and so if tomorrow I try again, I will be among you, otherwise I might try another day. It sounds so wonderful.
ReplyDeleteSounds good, Rachel. It should be a very useful and enlightening practice.
ReplyDeleteAll the best, do collect a myriad of them, different hues and perceptions.
ReplyDeleteHappy New Year, Rachel. I'm hoping 2011 gives me more time to participate in things like this.
ReplyDeleteElisabeth, I think the noticing of moments is really all that matters on a daily basis - you can register any time in January is how I interpreted it. Enjoy your moments.
ReplyDeleteLori, I hope so. I kind of do this anyway - been writing almost a poem a day for a few months now and most of them start as a little noticed moment. Are you going to try it?
ReplyDeleteAnshul, thanks, I'll do my best. Are you going to have a go picking stones?
ReplyDeleteDonna, I think you're busy enough! Hope you get some more writing time (at kinder hours) this year.
ReplyDeleteI am trying to be a contemplative cat on AROS - purrhaps we can purr together?
ReplyDeleteDefinitely, Cat - and you won't get your fur wet in this river!
ReplyDeleteWonderful...the contemplative aspect of...and your collection. Looking forward to seeing more. Thank you, peace and all good,
ReplyDeleteDiane
Thanks, Diane, good to see you here again. Hope you enjoy turning my little pebbles over.
ReplyDeleteI heard about this! Sounds like a great idea - go for it!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Talli!
ReplyDeleteI'm following several people who are doing this.
ReplyDeleteYour quips are delightful. Had to google Rangitoto. It's a great sounding word and very apt here.
Watch you don't trip over these stones people are leaving about all over the place, Kass! Thanks so much - happy following!
ReplyDeleteYour stones are lovely, like poetry. Thanks for sharing them. They have opened my eyes :)
ReplyDeleteDear Rachel,
ReplyDeleteThank you for visiting and affirming my work at my blog. It means so much. If it's not too much trouble, it would help me out a lot if you could also click the follow button there when you get a minute. I've been following your blog for sometime, so I hope it's okay to ask. I'm using my blog as part of my portfolio and trying to cultivate a community of serious creative writers, visual artists, musicians and others. Either way, thank you again, peace and continued good things for you.
Sincerely,
Diane
Helen, thanks, that's a lovely compliment. I've thoroughly enjoyed reading the interview over at your blog just now, too. You have a real talent for them. Excellent stuff.
ReplyDeleteDiane, I've been a follower of yours for a wee age, since I first found your blog way back in the day, um, when I found it - I'm sandwiched between Zia Francisco and Carol Everhart Roper. No worries for asking though! My picture is in sepia hues and my hair's all scrapey-uppy, if that helps locate me!
ReplyDeleteAll good things back at you. Thanks for reading.
Yes, this is a wonderful meditation
ReplyDeleteI love the small and the pure and clear
There's something about writing small which speaks of something really big, isn't thre, Elizabeth?
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Love it - sweet and simple.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Nu!
ReplyDeletePrecious stones, each.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Dick. There might be one or two worth polishing up.
ReplyDeleteI missed this!
ReplyDeleteMuch taken with the bluebottle ones, but my heart? The giggling rams, of course.
It's a cool project, isn't it?
There are bluebottles and bluebottles, JoAnne, and bluebottles but I've not got on to those yet...will post a pic to illuminate re heart. Thanks. It's very cool.
ReplyDeleteAh!
ReplyDeleteLovely, Rachel - some crisp, some soft around the edges - a fun read!
ReplyDeleteMuch more inspiring than a house fly, eh, Titus?!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Golden - that about sums me up, too! Glad you enjoyed them - got more to post when I can grab more than five mins to type them!
ReplyDeleteI agree, it is a lovely thing to be part of - and you have more than done it justice. A fabulous collection.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dave - I love your latest poetic offering, by the way! Maybe it was the added bit of science...it was great at any rate.
ReplyDeleteLike it,simple and cute :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marinela - lovely to *meet* you!
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting trip..
ReplyDeleteIlove the way you describe it..
very cool
- SY
Hi, SY, lovely to *meet* you - thanks for reading.
ReplyDeleteGlorious observations, Rachel - each one a poem, an acknowledgment, a meditative 'paying attention.'
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Thank you, Claire,
ReplyDelete"paying attention" is what I do best. My fault is remarking what I've noticed.
I'll try and keep my observations in my poetry - where they belong :)
Really appreciate you taking the time to read these.